


Perfectly imperfect

by stjarna



Series: Season 6 spec fics [18]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, fitzsimmons family, ish, s6 spec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-12 13:05:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19572271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: A season 6 spec fic (with already some canon-induced holes in it) that explores the Fitzsimmons family relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to @lilsciencequeen for the beta.

They had tucked themselves away in a quiet corner of the Lazy Comet—as quiet as it ever got on the ship. They sat next to each other, thighs touching, hands intertwined, an unspoken promise to make up for all the times they’d been separated by keeping physical contact whenever possible. Fitz’s index finger absentmindedly circled the diamond of Jemma’s wedding band, his eyes fixed on the piece of jewelry that still left him with so many questions.

“So,” he began, trying to put his rambling thoughts into words, “one time, we survived the end of the world, and raised a child.”

“A daughter,” Jemma clarified.

“A daughter?” Fitz looked up, noticing the smile ghosting across Jemma’s lips, his own ticking up as if by reflex. He scoffed, shaking his head, still barely able to believe the bits and pieces he’d heard about. “We raised a daughter,” he continued, trying to make sense of it all, “in an underground bunker on what was left of Earth, enslaved by Kree, trying to work out how to—” He exhaled sharply, thoughts racing through his mind, “—and she had a son, who then helped us—or well, you and him—you and me?—return to our present—or past—or—” He dropped his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “My head hurts. I mean, so many theories that just—“ He waved his hand in the air, as if he could see every disproven theory float into space. 

Jemma chuckled quietly. “They sure did. But I must admit, I’m glad in a sense. If those theories had been right then we wouldn’t have been able to prevent Earth’s destruction. I wouldn’t have been able to find you.”

Fitz looked down at where their two hands were intertwined. He covered hers with his free one, gently stroking back and forth. “You wouldn’t have had to look for me in the first place,” he remarked, thinking out loud. “I wouldn’t have died—”

“Fitz, stop,” Jemma interjected, placing her free hand atop his. Her expression was filled with a mix of sadness and determination. “There’s no use in ‘would haves.’” She smiled. “You’re here now. We’re together. We’re going home—to an Earth we saved.”

Fitz nodded, bringing their interlaced hands to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “So what is he like?” he changed the topic back, “Our grandson? What’s his name?”

A quiet laugh escaped her, as her face lit up with happiness. “Deke. Deke Shaw.”

Fitz furrowed his brow, letting the information sink in, his mind trying to conjure up an image of a man he’d never met solely based on his name. “Our daughter had a Deke?”

Jemma chuckled, bobbing her head in confirmation. “She did. And he—” She wrinkled her forehead in thought. “Well, we didn’t get off to a good start, what with him selling Daisy out to the Kree.”

Fitz’s eyes shot open in disbelief. “He what??”

Jemma shrugged. “In a strange way, I think he was trying to help even then. It’s just that he—think about it, Fitz—he grew up in a dystopian future. His mother—our daughter—and God knows how many others were killed when he was a child, trying to protect what we had been working towards, trying to find a way back and save Earth. He thought his father had been sent to certain death on the planet’s surface, killed by graviton storms or those horrendous creatures. All he knew, all he could do was learn to survive—and that meant—”

Fitz sighed in understanding. “—entering a grey zone of morality.”

“Yes, but he has a good heart.” Jemma pressed her palm against her chest, her expression soft and loving. “He really does. Like you. And he’s smart—like you.” She scrunched her nose, her tone becoming more teasing. “And a bit cocky—like you.”

Fitz gasped in protest. “I’m not—”

Jemma ticked her head to one side, looking at him sternly. “Fitz?”

Fitz scoffed, biting his lower lip to suppress an involuntarily smile, raising his eyebrows and shrugging slightly to admit defeat.

Jemma squeezed his hand gently. “I think he is perfectly imperfect. And I can’t wait for you to meet him. I mean his very existence proves the multiverse theory—which I’m sure he’ll be rubbing in our faces for a bit, but in any case—though we got off to a rough start, he and I certainly developed a family bond, I would say, and I think you—”

“He and you?” Fitz observed her choice of word, pressing his lips into a thin line and exhaling sharply. “So, he and I—?”

The sadness briefly flashing across Jemma’s face was all the confirmation he needed. Fitz nodded, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Alright,” he muttered, unsure of what else to say.

He looked back up when Jemma once again squeezed his hand. “There was so much going on, Fitz. You were under so much pressure. The weight of the world on your shoulders. Our lives in danger.  _ My _ life in danger. ‘I’ll save you every time, or I’ll die trying.’ Isn’t that what you said? You wanted to save me, save us, save the world, fix things, and you were running out of time, and out of options, and so your mind—”

Fitz bobbed his head, sighing deeply. “You mentioned I had a pretty bad mental—”

“The circumstances just made it impossible for the two of you to—”

“I was being an arse, wasn’t I?”

Jemma chuckled at his bluntness. “Maybe you were a tad harsh with him, but—but I think—” She paused, exhaling sharply. “I  _ know _ that given the opportunity, given the time, you two would get along swimmingly—or, well—there would probably still be bickering. You’re both a bit stubborn, but—”

Fitz stared at her wide-eyed, his mouth slightly ajar. “Oh, we’re both stubborn, ha? But you’re oh so—?”

Jemma gasped indignantly. “I’m strong-willed, that’s entirely diff—”

Fitz cut her off with a kiss, savoring the sensation of their lips molding against each other. He let go reluctantly, his palm lightly pressed against her cheek, his thumb gently caressing the soft skin below her eye. He smiled at her, allowing himself to get lost in her whiskey-brown irises. “Well, I’m looking forward to meeting him. This Deke Shaw. Our grandson. Getting that second chance.”


	2. Chapter 2

Fitz balled his fists, staring wide-eyed at the young, scruffy man in front of him. “You are without a doubt the absolute worst!” he growled through gritted teeth, before fanning his arm out to the side, gesturing at the lab. “You stole our ideas. Years—decades of research. S.H.I.E.L.D secrets posted on Twitter and Instagram.” He tapped his temples with his fingertips. “I mean did it ever occur to you that—”

“Oh, yeah, well,” Deke stammered, trying to interject, his eyes pleadingly wandering in Jemma’s direction. “I just—”

Jemma’s index finger darted scoldingly in the direction of her grandson. “Oh no, don’t you dare look at me right now, young man! I’m on your grandfather’s side. I cannot believe that—”

“I’ve survived a year in space among marauders and scumbags,” Fitz shouted angrily. “I was outlawed. People tried to kill me. I had to gamble for my life, more than once.” He gestured with two hands at Deke. “And now my grandson stole our lives’ work for his own profit. I think maybe I know a planet or two that you’d fit in just perfectly.”

“Oh, come on now.” Deke slumped his shoulders. “Maybe what I did was—”

“No.” Fitz waved him off, placing one hand on his hip and rubbing his forehead with the other. “No. I don’t want to—I just—” He scrunched his face, pressing his fingers together in a shut-up gesture. “Shh! Just go.” He exhaled sharply, turning around and leaning on the workbench behind him.

“Fine,” Deke muttered quietly.

Fitz listened as his grandson’s footsteps grew more quiet, when his ears picked up a familiar voice.

“Deke Shaw,” Enoch remarked.

“Yes?” Deke replied.

“I did not mean to listen in on your conversation with Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons,” the Chronicom said, “but I’m afraid the volume made it impossible for me not to.” 

Fitz couldn’t help but scoff in amusement. He turned his head slightly, curiosity making it impossible for him to ignore the conversation outside the lab.

“What do you want, Enoch?” Deke sighed, his words laced with annoyance.

“It is my intention to offer words of consolation.”

“What?” Deke asked surprised.

“Leopold Fitz has expressed on several occasions that I made his life rather challenging, and that I am, in fact, the absolute worst. Yet, he appears to still consider me his best friend, despite my betrayal. Therefore, I believe there may be hope for redemption for you as well.”

Fitz dropped his head in thought, letting his friend’s words sink in. 

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m an idiot,” Deke replied, causing Fitz’s head to shoot back up, “so, thanks for trying to cheer me up, buddy, but I’m not holding my breath.” 

“I did not suggest you hold your breath. Oxygen is vital to human survival.”

“Yeah, no, that’s not what I—not literally. It’s an expression.”

Fitz’s ears still picked up their conversation, and yet his mind replayed what Deke had said:  _ he thinks I’m an idiot _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, canon kinda threw a wrench into this chapter becoming canon but I couldn't resist putting Enoch into this ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Fitz inhaled deeply, before bringing his closed hand up to the door, knocking loudly. 

It took a moment before the door opened, and as soon as Deke saw who was standing in front of his bunk, his expression grew heavy. “What?” he barked. “You decided to come to my bunk and yell at me some more. Because, I don’t know, I think you should get in line. Because—believe it or not—getting yelled at is pretty much all that has happened since I got back to this place. That and annoyed sideways glances.”

Fitz couldn’t help the amused scoff that escaped his nose. “Actually, I do believe that.” 

Deke slumped his shoulders. “Look. I know what I did was maybe ethically questionable. And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He pressed his palm against his chest. “And—and I didn’t know what had happened to you. No one told me or I would have—I mean—” He gestured at Fitz. “You’re my grandfather, and—but I didn’t know and—”

Fitz sighed, raising his left hand, dangling the pack of Zima in front of his grandson’s nose. “Do you have an off button so I can say what I came here to say? Because believe it or not, I didn’t come here to yell.”

Deke furrowed his brow. “You didn’t?”

Fitz lowered his hand again, exhaling a sharp breath. He drew his teeth across his lower lip. “My dad called me the absolute worst.” He scoffed, lowering his gaze and raising his eyebrows. “Felt like he did it every day. He called me an idiot. Womanly. Weak. No good. I could add to that list. It sticks with you. And you start to believe it’s true. It’s hard to break that loop. And now—” He shrugged, chuckling in embarassed disbelief. “I don’t know why I didn’t notice it sooner—but, now  _ I’m _ the one dishing out the same insults, the same hurtful words?” He shook his head. “I don’t want to be that person. I  _ never _ wanted to be that person. And maybe you can help me stop being him.”

He paused, watching the confused expression on his grandson’s face. “When I grew up,” he continued, “I had a dad I wished I’d never met, and I had my mum. I had my mum who’d move heaven and earth to give me everything I needed, to keep me safe. From what I heard, you had less than that. You had yourself. No one deserves that.” He licked his lower lip, a smile flashing across his face. “I met Jemma. And I had S.H.I.E.L.D. I had my team. Daisy. Coulson. Mack. Hunter. Bobbi. Elena. Even May. They became more than my team. They’re my family. And without them—” He sniffed, not wanting to think of the consequences of losing any of them, before looking Deke straight in the eyes. “We all need someone. Life should be about more than just surviving. We all deserve someone. We all deserve family. Real or chosen. We need people to guide us, and strengthen us, and tell us when we’re being insufferable. We need people who are there for us, and we need to be there for them. And it’s not always sunshine and roses. It’s not always easy. But that’s what family is. You’re there in good times and in bad times. Sometimes you yell at each other, sometimes you hold each other tighter than—” One corner of his mouth quirked up as he lifted his shoulders. “And people deserve a second chance. I’m still mad about what you did, but I’d be a hypocrite if I weren’t willing to look beyond that, if I judged you for your actions without being willing to get to know you as a person. Jemma said we got off to a bad start last time, and I can’t shake the feeling that that was more my fault than yours. We have a second chance here, and I for one want to make things better, want to make things right. You say you’re sorry for what you did. And I want to believe that. I  _ believe _ that, and I want to look to the future rather than the past. I’m your grandad—no matter how insane that sounds. And you’re my grandson. We’re family, so—” Once again, Fitz lifted the pack of Zima higher. “I heard you like this stuff.”

Deke looked nervously and still a bit skeptical back at him. “I—um—I do. But, no one else seems to.”

Fitz shrugged, pursing his lips. “I’m willing to give it a chance. You?”

The corners of Deke’s mouth ticked up into a shy smile that was all the reply Fitz needed. 

“So, you’re going to invite your grandfather in or what?” he asked in a pretend stern tone.

Deke scrambled to open the door wider, gesturing into the bunk. Fitz stepped inside, looking around at the messy room. “I see you get your tidiness from me,” he chuckled.


End file.
